


Come Undone

by iamamiwhoami



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Acrata - Freeform, Angst, Angst Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Confrontations, Crying, Dark Past, Drinking, F/F, Fighting, Fire, Graphic Description, Heavy Angst, Lena Luthor Knows Kara Danvers Is Supergirl, Leviathan - Freeform, Lojas, Passion, Reference to death, Rojascorp, Sex, Smut, Storm - Freeform, hidden love, season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:48:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21878392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamamiwhoami/pseuds/iamamiwhoami
Summary: On a stormy night of whiskey and fire, tormented regret and choleric resentment collide through a whole void of shadows and ghosts.And in the depths of this void, they find nothing but each other.
Relationships: Lena Luthor/Andrea Rojas
Comments: 13
Kudos: 120





	Come Undone

**Author's Note:**

> For always being around to save me, thank you, V.
> 
> As usual, english is not my first language. Thank you all for your patience and kindness.
> 
> I wish you guys a good reading. See you down there. :)
> 
> P.S.: Deliberately inspired by "Come Undone", Duran Duran.

Lena opened the door and Andrea was propped up miserably on the doorframe with a Van Horne half-bottle hanging between her trembling fingers. She looked elegant and beautiful despite the sheer fatigue in those inexplicably charming big eyes of hers, the coat dress fitting like a glove, hair and fabric and high heels covered with droplets of the rain that ravaged National City outside, and for a moment Lena would almost forget that she was just one of the people who stayed behind drowning in their own mistakes.

But she didn't forget, she would never forget. She straightened the velvety three-piece suit, took a sip of her own whiskey and didn't even bother to arch a sharp brow to express the question. “May I help you?”

No answer came from those downward lips, just a sigh in the half-open space of her mouth, her head falling back against the wall and her eyes twinkling under the yellow lamp in the hallway. Andrea shook her head slightly and turned the bottle for three consecutive sips, her throat protruding with the burning liquid, and Lena silently wondered if that was some kind of answer.

She could have closed the door and left that excuse of a human dripping on the top floor carpet, but she found herself opening the doorway and watching her come in as an old friend or business partner, and at that moment she was neither.

It didn't seem that Andrea knew exactly what she was doing, which intrigued Lena even more. Andrea always knew what she was doing, she knew how to be cunning and insightful, cynical and smart to the last strand of her hair. When she was there last time, for example, Lena told herself that she knew what she was doing and the game she was playing. She threw these sweet childhood memories at Lena and asked her to save her boyfriend's neck. She planned everything thoroughly and, as much as Lena had taken advantage of it, at no point was Andrea sincere about regretting deceiving her and letting her watch with her own eyes and carry on her shoulders forever the hundreds of lives Lex destroyed in a blink of an eye.

Andrea didn't care in the back years and she doesn't care now.

Lena has stated this to herself so many times that it has simply become the truth.

She decided to sit back on the couch in front of the hearth and ignored the woman following her. At either end, they gazed at the dancing fire as the storm broke the world beyond the apartment, and not even the crackling of flames or the lightning and thunder in the sky could dethrone the silence around them.

Until Andrea, abandoning the empty bottle on the carpet, broke it for them. 

“Russell is dead.”

Lena immediately looked at her with furrowed brows, but Andrea kept her head lowered to the hearth. It was a simple, almost neutral sentence, there was no melancholy or self-pity in her tone, no guilt or accusation. No attempt at retribution.

But then Lena is thinking of death, all the people she has lost and she has seen get lost in the ultimate, unchanging deal that is death, and her heart sinks against all her self-defenses. "I'm sorry."

She figured the woman would turn to her and growl and say that it's her fault for taking the medallion, even though she doesn't even know what happened to the man. She waited for anger, accusation, and revenge. Because Andrea Rojas, very unlike Kara Danvers, who was pure and benevolent and would cry and beg for forgiveness until her words were exhausted, doesn't sincerely apologize twice and doesn't bother to push back and fight Lena if necessary, as when she threatened to make her a headline story on the cover of her magazine.

Again rolling what Lena knew upside down, though, Andrea turns to look at her with a sad, tight-lipped smile, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter."

Lena wanted to ask if she referred to her condolences or the fact that Russell Rogers was dead, but she took the last sip of her whiskey and leaned back on the couch, once again gazing at the fire, trying to ignore the scrutinizing eyes that remained on her through the oppressive silence.

Andrea, on the other hand, was steeped in much more distant memories. Although Lena didn't think so, she knew exactly what she was doing there, but she couldn't confess. Where would she start?

How to say that Lena was her last spark of hope in a world that gradually became a nightmare of tyrant terror under Leviathan's command? How to try to express that while Lena didn't forgive her and deny the feeling that once united them as one, like Jack and Rose, like the girls who would see and conquer the world together, she still saw Lena as the best thing in that shattered world, because she knew she would be good until the end of time?

How to tear her dark heart in front of the one that had always seemed pure light to her?

"What are you doing here?" She woke to the sore sound of Lena's voice, which still refused to take her eyes off the fire, but the tone no longer sounded outrageous and fierce, it just sounded exhausted. All the walls were still around her, but she wasn't attacking, and Andrea wondered painfully how many demons Lena had been fighting with lately and if she should disappear and never pester her again.

But there is this gravitational force full of anguish and reminiscences that has always dragged and repelled her to and then against Lena, but has been annulled and now only crawls her to where Lena is, where she hides lonely and wounded.

She took a deep breath and tilted her head. "I'm trying to figure out who between the two of us is suffering the most."

Lena exhaled a bitter laugh. "If I'm triumphing will you feel better and leave me alone?"

"You..." Andrea laughed with the same bitterness and leaned back on the couch, ignoring her hair soaking the lining. "You haven't become any more skilled at protecting yourself."

"Protecting myself from what?"

"From hurt."

"Should I take this as an insult?"

"An observation."

"You can keep it for your magazine."

"I've been watching you through the years, did you know that?"

"Well, to know I would have to care. And I don't."

"I used to know everything about you." Andrea ignored the bite and kept going. "But knowing you as I used to know, it wouldn't be hard to put the facts together and how you felt about it."

"Please spare me." Lena finally stared at her and for a second it seemed that the fire had remained in the reflection of her green eyes. "I'm not the girl you used to know. And I certainly don't know who you truly are."

"Your parents. CADMUS. Jack." She kept pressing fearlessly, analyzing her reactions as coldly as possible. "Medusa virus. Daxamites. Poisoned children and Morgan Edge. Reign. Your brother. A whole succession of episodes breaking you again and again. I wonder how much you still can bear..."

Lena's eyelashes fluttered and her jaw stiffened. It seemed for a brief second that she would lose her composure. Andrea wanted her to do it because she still knows her and they have always been different in this regard. Lena always had it, these eyes too bright and too honest for her own sake. She was never good at lying, at least not to Andrea. They grew up together and the world hardened Lena, but it didn't change her. Andrea has always been a master at disguising and, as if she was truly destined for Acrata, keeping herself in the shadows. Lena doesn't. She has always been under a light of truth and vulnerability which she has always tried to get rid of as well. 

"What do you intend, Miss Rojas?" This time she just arched that missing sharp eyebrow, because she might not be feeling that way, but she would act as if she were insurmountable at all costs. "I'm sorry for your loss, but that doesn't give you the right to come into my house and speak like you have any knowledge of the person I became."

"Miss Rojas!" Andrea laughed bitterly and stood up, raindrops falling on the hearth and flickering the fire. "See, that's exactly what I'm talking about." She leaned over and opened her arms in a strange and exaggerated motion that was nothing like her. "Why am I here, Lena? Why are you so sorry for my loss? Why did you open your house for me, why did you let me stay and sit next to you by the fire?"

"Well, don't let the door hit you on the way out." Lena stood as if she wanted to level her rival's height.

"Why are you allowing me here and you haven't kicked me out of your own accord yet? I lied to you, I let you to go through hours of horror watching innocent people die by the hands of your own brother because I was too selfish and wanted to save just one."

It was like seeing crystal shattering.

An emerald palace inside her eyes breaking into a thousand pieces.

Lena felt her stomach churning. "You need to leave. I'll walk you to the door."

"Tell me something." Andrea's voice wavered. "You have to be feeling something. You were quite frank the last time I was here. Tell me something now."

"I have nothing to say or to feel for you." Lena decided and walked through, about to bump into her and open the door at the end of the room.

But suddenly she passed through a black smoke dissipating, her eyes widening in terror for her to turn and find Andrea where she was before in front of the hearth.

"Tell me." She swayed again.

"The medallion..." Lena retreated a step near the cabinets on the open kitchen. "I took it from you..."

Andrea turned away from the fire and dissipated into the black smoke again, making Lena look alarmed across the apartment, her back hitting the cabinets. "I don't need the medallion." She reappeared closer. "It only served to arouse the darkness within me. You wouldn't understand, because you don't understand darkness."

Despairing for some kind of control, Lena fumbled a drawer and pulled out a pistol, unlocking it and aiming straight at her and stepping forward. "Stay back!" 

“I am Acrata.” Andrea's voice sounded like a ghostly howl when she disappeared again and reappeared a few inches from her, Lena's finger on the trigger. “I bend the shadows, I am darkness, I murdered for Leviathan in the duskiness of this world.” She disappeared once again and Lena felt her breath touching her neck and turned again, but all there was a smoky trail one more time. “Would you kill me to do justice, Lena?"

She reappeared for the last time right in front of Lena, the pistol sinking into her chest and Lena's almost terrified gauze flickering to her. "Do not test me, Andrea..." Lena whispered with all the uncertainty in her tone.

Lena wasn't sure what scared the most, the whole story about the darkness or the fact that she was holding the trigger of a pistol over Andrea's heart. She didn't know if the fear was that Andrea might hurt her or the opposite. And the most miserable part is that there was no heroic glory, no righteous justice before her, and she would never be able to choose to kill her.

"I'm not testing you. I know you. And if I'm not going to have the truth from you, I'll jump and get it on my own terms the way I wanted for too long. So kill me or tell me the truth. Kill me or tell me to leave and I'll never come back."

Andrea in turn felt herself in the void of the abyss of her own shadows, because suddenly she didn't know if she wanted Lena's justice or mercy, she didn't know if she wanted Lena to put her out of her misery or if she I wanted to see again the light radiating from those green deer eyes in the headlights.

"Kill me, Lena." She slid her fingers up Lena's elbows and rested her hands gently on the pistol in her chest. "Kill me or let me jump."

She looked deep into Lena's eyes and it seemed that they were finally in the same abyss, even though Lena didn't belong there, even though she'll never belong there, it really seemed that Lena was seeing something she refused to see, that they both refused to see, and every day of their childhood and youth galloped into Andrea's mind like the glimpse of a lost dream.

Lena invading her shadows, enlightening everything.

"If you jump..." The faint whisper drains from Lena as a plea and the world within the world abdicates to be shadow and light to turn into fire. And Lena crossed the edge of everything she was containing, watching it burst through the facade and the damage and the indifference she never knew how to wield.

In the infinite line of another inevitable end, Andrea lowered her eyes to Lena's trembling lips and jumped.

While Andrea could hear Lena's heart beating in her lips and she felt strong and pacified, Lena could feel Andrea's heart beating in the pistol barrel and she felt weak and startled. Andrea dug her fingernails into the back of the velvety suit and slid her fingers into Lena's jaw with the other, her almost delicate thumb pulling at Lena's chin to have her mouth open, the electrifying plunge of their tongues and a sigh escaping from Lena's throat, impossible to know if distressed or graced.

Lena's fingers twitched and the pistol slipped between them, falling into the open kitchen in a hollow echo. Her hands remained suspended in space, falling flat against Andrea's chest as she held Lena by the waist and the back of her neck and pushed their bodies until Lena's back hit against the cabinets. Strong, but soft. Domineering, but kind. Febrile, but careful.

They pulled away almost imperceptibly, breathless, and Andrea shuddered, grasping at the nape of Lena's neck and waist, watching her with narrowed and flickering eyes, Lena's eyebrows curving as if she was in pain, but sliding one lip over the other and biting harshly the lower as if she was desiring. Andrea held her and waited and waited and perished waiting until Lena, still with her eyes closed and mouth open, crashed their lips together and snapped against the last thread of reluctance, her hands gripping the collar of her coat dress.

Blowing up inside, the furious kiss tearing them apart in red lipstick, sharp teeth and incomprehensible sighs, they should be foreign bodies intertwining, Lena thought, because they had never been like this before, they were not heading to be like this before Andrea betrayed her, but while they they boiled and she found herself climbing toward Andrea with more desire than she had felt in a long time, suddenly it seemed that it was always there, waiting to be unchained. One way or another, now she just couldn't stop, losing completely at her mercy.

Though her touch was gentle, Andrea's hands came down to roughly tear the buttons of her suit, waistcoat and shirt, her mouth never leaving Lena's and her fingers rising desperately to find the skin, tension in her belly, her breasts under lace, the bulging bone of her clavicle in a delicate curve.

Lena pulled away for a second, burning at the heated touch against her skin, her eyes wide and letting out a bittersweet hiss. It suddenly seemed to Andrea that her body was too small and brittle, belligerent, her hands still clutched at the collar of her coat dress as if she were afraid to fall or watch her disappear into the shadows again.

“Is this what you came for?” She asked nonchalantly, regaining for a moment all her self-control, unnerving Andrea, but never taking her hands off the collar of the coat dress. “Your farewell fuck?” Her brows arched cynically. and provocative.

And Andrea would usually return the taunt, because if Lena bites her, she bites back no matter how guilty and damned she felt for what she did to her. But her image glimpsed before her and all she could feel was an absolute willingness to wipe the indifference from Lena's face, to wring away the disdain and detachment and contempt she so pathetically tried to pretend she possessed.

Andrea grabbed her by the thighs and shoved her sitting on the cabinet counter, her high heels falling to the floor, her protest muffled in another intoxicating kiss that poisons the last fortress Lena intends to keep intact. Andrea stepped aside for a brief moment to watch her and gasped at the glorious vision of the ruined three-piece suit, her breathing hard and her fingers clenched against the board, and she could pull herself together and leap from there and Andrea would leave her alone, but she made no effort to change the game.

In the opposite, she leaned over and pulled Andrea back, no longer thinking about her own actions. She unbuttoned her dress and spread her hands on her abdomen as if she didn't want Andrea to come any closer, but unable to keep her hands off her for more than a minute. And slowly Andrea touched her again, sliding what was left of the suit down her shoulders, dropping to her waist around her, Lena letting the sleeves come out willingly, mirroring the gesture with the coat dress.

When it fell completely to the kitchen floor, Lena's green eyes widened at the sight of that woman in underwear staring at her with the hunger of a hundred lions, and Andrea leaned over the breach, touching Lena's tense arms and sliding her hands up, freeing the long wavy black strands from her tight ponytail and stroking it with incomprehensible tenderness.

Lena was the one who pushed her away and refused the sweet and unacceptable caress, hands on her back to unhook her own bra and toss somewhere in the kitchen. And Andrea couldn't help but smile viciously, seeing her desperate for control, almost completely naked under the lamplight, even more stubborn than she always was. The behavior didn't last, though, when Andrea came to her again, but kissing her jaw, mapping from the flexed point to her neck, teeth on her skin aching divinely, on her clavicle and chest, until her hands were holding Lena's back and she bent down to put her mouth in the pale breast, across the valley to the other breast, savoring, rotating the rosy nipple, Lena's moan echoing louder than the unstoppable storm outside.

She circled and went mad and Lena brought her close, fingers tight in her hair, boiling and succumbing to her, unhooking her bra equally and almost gently touching every inch of skin she could reach. Andrea sank into the flesh and slid her lips up to her pants, unzipping it and pulling it and the underwear down Lena's hips with no more time for half measures, needing her more than controlling her or pulling something from her. Seeing her finally exposed and trembling before her eyes, not even she could foresee herself falling to her knees and propelling Lena to the edge of the cabinet counter, anticipation of caution and need shining all over Lena's face with the realization of her own state.

Lena leaned in as if she wanted to say something, but Andrea dug her nails into her thighs to spread her legs open, smiling at the undisguised glow in the middle. And Lena knew what would happen, squinting and letting her neck fall backward, but lifting a second later when Andrea bit the inside of her thigh.

“Look at me, Lena, in my eyes." She whispered hoarsely. "I want to be watching to find out if you can keep the apathy when I make you come.”

She didn't even have time to project a defensive retort as Andrea's tongue snaked through her folds, slicing and sucking and making her eyes roll back behind her head and her voice choke in her throat. Andrea kept her steady, pressed, heat rising and consuming her, the sound in moist texture and the tingling sensation, the demanding eyes hunting hers, daring her to flee, daring her to remain indifferent and whole.

Lena grabbed her hair and Andrea laughed, sending the vibration of warm breath, ruffling the milky skin, the bundle of nerves and the hair on the mound of venus, electrifying her from head to toe because Lena was caressing her hair with the same sweetness she had earlier refused, and the irony of it all just made her feel more and more the desire to see that stubborn young woman surrendered in her mouth. And Lena knew she was coming soon, she knew that she would gush on those sinful lips, that she would finally surrender irrefutably, and she wanted to open the cabinets and tear off the plates and break all the porcelain in the apartment in a noisy chaos that would deter her from getting lost in Andrea.

She could feel slipping, her senses disheartened, compromised and trapped, her body tensing to its zenith. She locked eyes with Andrea and sought fury, sovereignty and teasing, but she glimpsed only desire, permission and delight that finally made her boneless on the counter and echo with a shattered moan, dripping and letting herself be drunk and licked in the contented humming of Andrea as she felt her thighs held and caressed.

As Andrea rose to her feet, her jaw gleaming, a mess of strands of hair and the last traces of lipstick, Lena immediately brought her as close as possible, again seeming to fear seeing her disappear, trembling lips blowing warm air on her chest and on her breasts, making Andrea sigh and keep their bodies together. They held on in the breathless silence, no one daring to move. Andrea closed her eyes caressed the small body inside her arms. What would have happened if she had not betrayed Lena? Her father would die and Lena would be the one next to her, and maybe she would understand back then how much she always wanted to kiss and touch and have and give herself to her best friend? Would their bond tighten, and would she have seen herself in love with that extraordinary precious woman? And while Lex went crazy, would Lena have seen Andrea as the only light of her life, taking care of her through media conflicts and accusations, and realizing how much she wanted her?

Because she’s not in love now.

They’re not in love with each other.

But Andrea looked at her, gently, frighteningly, truly seeing her, her thighs still trembling on the cabinet counter, her arms clenched in Andrea's equally naked body, viscous traces, scattered scent, her eyes narrowing between trembling eyelashes, and she was consumed by this overwhelming need to stay with her and take care of her and pretend, even if she didn't feel worthy, that she could hold Lena out of her torments.

She leaned over and kissed Lena with an affable tenderness, her chin, her cheeks, the tip of her nose and her forehead and Lena winced unable to refuse the tenderness this time, grunting softly as Andrea urged her to bring their bodies closer, feeling her sensitive organ against her rigid abdomen, not waiting when she bent in Lena's shadows under the lamplight and made them disappear together.

It was a strange feeling, as if she dematerialized into black smoke and wasn't sure , for a second, if she would come back whole.

Suddenly Lena found herself on the living room carpet, rain pounding against the glass, fire crackling in the hearth, trying to get up quickly, alarmed for a moment, searching around for the other woman. Andrea appeared in the blink of an eye, gloriously naked astride her, her arms reaching out to hold her wrists against the carpet.

"I thought...” Lena gasped but couldn't finish the sentence.

Andrea fell over her and released one of her hands to slide her fingers into her soaked folds, making Lena gasp, squinting her eyes and arching to the floor. "I'm not done with you yet. I could go on and on and never stop and you would never have to pretend that you're feeling nothing again. Hate me or come for me, be my enemy or just be mine, but I won't let you get lost in the emptiness."

“Andrea…!” She screamed hoarse and surrendered, her fists clenching and scratching the carpet as if she could rip it in half, her breath becoming short, lying there, naked and totally disarmed, green eyes bursting vivid with despair.

Andrea drove her fingers harder inside her and the sounds Lena uttered, defenseless and inevitable, were spinning her head in a dizzying spiral. Lena raised her haunches to receive more and more, feeling the palm at the end of the two fingers that plunged in and out of it in a delirious rhythm. Andrea dragged the nails of her other hand on Lena's flank and wished she could growl all the desire that was burning inside her to see Lena completely undone, she held her frantic hips against the floor, rubbing the heated skin, lost in that damn beautiful submission, Lena's heels pressing against her legs, erotic and teasing, in and out and spinning and her thumb sliding into her throbbing clit and making them both moan at the same time.

Lena opened her wide eyes and thrust herself up to fervently kiss Andrea's lips, thumbing to turn their bodies and they fell together, folded into each other, leaning to kiss again and again and Andrea broke in again between her legs, Lena following the movement, cold fingers tearing her panties and sinking in Andrea's already soaked and warm folds, whimpering in her mouth, biting her, both succumbing in a symphony, bellies sweating deliciously, slippery skins on fire.

They excluded the world and the storm outside, all the lies and disappointments, all the people they lost, intertwining down on the floor, ecstasy lingered in the slow, steady touches. Lena crooked her finger, three now coming in and out of Andrea, tight and loud, toes curled, senseless and giving up control, and it felt like it was something inside their bloodrush.

In an unexpected docility, Andrea climbed over her and shrank between her breasts, ear against her racing heart, and Lena looked alarmed again at the tenderness, lightly biting her shoulder, because she wanted to stop her, but couldn't stop the frenzy of her own fingers between Andrea's thick thighs. Andrea felt that sharp pain, but it was brief and harmless, because she was listening to Lena's heart like a song of life and emotion out of plumb.

When the pulses quickened, the bodies imprisoned there, pressing against each other, soaked openings sucking the ends of their fingers on each other, Lena's eyes on the ceiling and Andrea's head cradled in her heart, they felt the first sweet spasms went through, bellies tighten, choking gasps of anticipation, everything astraddle and boiling in their stomachs.

They come almost at the same time and it's like the storm broke within each one of them in a warm liquid resounding exclamation, bodies arching trembling over each other, Lena's fingers caressing Andrea's hair and Andrea's mouth sliding almost painfully affectionately into Lena's breast, both sighing breathlessly.

Exhausted, they did not move as the tremors subsided and the apartment became calm except for the raindrops whipping on the windowpanes.

Together crawling out of the void.

Andrea listened to her heart slowly softening and wished they could stay there for another peaceful moment before Lena sent her away and she would never touch and feel her again. And Lena wanted the same, she wished everything were real and good and sweet and she could caress that woman that rumbled through her world for the rest of the stormy night.

And it seemed that would be so, but Andrea felt Lena's body tremble and sob. She rose with her elbows on the carpet to find Lena's lips compressed, her eyes fixed on the ceiling and tears streaming endlessly on the sides of her face. And it sank Andrea's heart, because her expression was so harsh, so badly hurt, so different from the shy, dreamy girl she had met.

But if that was the real Lena Luthor now, she decided she would have her.

And she made her mind peaceful, because even sorrow was better than indifference.

"Do you want me to leave?"

Lena's lips parted trembling and she closed her eyes, tears spilling and running down her nose, her head shaking slightly in denial.

What did the world do to her?

What did _Andrea_ do to her?

She lay back and covered Lena's body with hers like a shield, a blanket or a gentle pressure, whatever she needed her to be, as long as she needed it, and the storm continued to ruin the city as the apartment fell in a suspended silence filled with questions still tormenting, still suspicious, still perishing in anguish and resentment.

But for the first time inexplicably, in a distorted and sparse way, finally comforting.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for getting here. I pondered a lot about this story.
> 
> I'm a very romantic person and I wasn't sure I could write an open sexual content without the beginnings of a romance itself, but I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> Find me on twitter, let's talk! @dokkstormur.
> 
> See you guys soon. :)


End file.
